Cape Cod
by wednesdaysfire
Summary: The Bering Family goes to Cape Cod as part of Warren Bering's attempt finish(well begin) his second novel. What would've been a boring summer turns into pure shenanigans after young Myka and Tracy encounter the wrath of an infamous trio. BAD LANGUAGE, CRUDE HUMOR, TEEN PARTYING, MINOR SEXUALITY...
1. Chapter 1

**Cape Cod Kwassa Kwassa**

You left me no choice. Think of the Bering house is more or less the house off moonrise kingdom. style wise it fits.

In here Tracy is only 2 years younger than Myka, and they are 15 and 17 respectively.

HG and Jenks are…._different_ in here. Their behavior may shock a lot of people. They are the same age as Myka, 17.

Tell me what you think about this. It's so stupid, not to debase myself, but in comparison to that **ONION _Snatch_ **is, this one is a nice innocent bowl of Neapolitan ice-cream. Not too complicated at all.

NO BETA.

**PROMISE NOT TO LEAVE YOU HANGING WITH THIS ONE. **

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**Chapter 1 – BRYN**

MacPherson stood aside, hands clasped behind his back as the lovely Mrs. Bering spun around taking in the Cape Cod's interior décor. It was one of the many properties he managed during the off season of the harbor. He'd hoped to impress the young family with the alterations he'd arranged. Impress he did.

"This is…. _beautiful_, absolutely stunning!"

Mrs. Bering squeezed her hands underneath her chin as she took in the newly installed fixtures and skylights. To some it was a small fortune that went into the solar upgrades, to MacPherson it was a drop in the bucket. Mrs. Bering dropped her hands and turned around, glossy eyed, in search of her husband.

"Warren? Warren? Where are you? Did you bring the camera?" she called.

In the background, two sullen teenage girls were slouched against a wall beside a bay window. The younger one was straight haired, three to four inches shorter, wearing an exposed back tank top with much too short skirt. The other was older, had frizzy curly hair, wore large glasses, and was dressed in a pink polo with a pristine white tennis skirt. The gulf between them both was a tennis racket and golf bag.

"If she says the word _beautifooool_ again, I think I'll barf."

"Tracy!" snapped the older.

"What?" Tracy raised her shoulders in an exaggerated show of protest, "Myka, you know you agree with me. Just say it, mom's gonna make us barf."

Color dotted Myka's cheeks as she glanced at the gentlemen standing a mere three feet in front of them. MacPherson had his back turned but she was more than certain he could hear them.

"Tracy!"

Myka prodded a finger towards MacPherson's back. In response, Tracy tossed her hands in the air.

"So?" she replied.

MacPherson turned around, just a sneak, and caught the eyes of both of them. They both put on their best prefect little angels smiles. Just as he turned away, Myka sharply nudged Tracy in the arm with her elbow and Tracy swiped her leg with the tennis racket. The motion sent their father's golfbag toppling sideway's they both had to catch it in order to stop it from falling onto the floor.

"See!" Myka hissed.

"It's your fault," Tracy snapped back.

"Girls, girls!"

Two heads turned to the voice coming from above. Their mother was standing by the banister, her Jackie O sunglasses were propped onto of her head and her cheeks flushed from the excitement of the tour.

"Come see the _beautiful_ view you have from your room, it's absolutely fantastic!"

Tracy ducked her head and made gagging noises, Myka slyly pinched her on the wrist while wearing her perfect little angel smile.

"Coming mother." she dutifully called.

To the lovely Mrs. Bering, Tracy shrieked for no apparent reason.

...

"Tyger Tyger, burning bright, in the forests of the night,"

A very dark haired girl was standing in front of a very blazing fire. In her hands was a book of poetry by William Blake, she didn't need the book, she knew it front to back by heart, but for the sheer dramatics of the event it was the perfect prop. In between each stanza she'd reach into the bag beside her, it was from Urban Outfitters, but inside the attire was strictly Marc Jacobs, and casually plop– a dress sock… a pressed silk tie… a creased dress shirt…don't forget the cufflinks– Directly into the blazing inferno.

"Could twist the sinews of thy heart? And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet?"

The patio door flung open exposing a boy who looked much like her but a few years older and a several pounds chunkier. His hair was severely parted to the right and slicked back with a noxious shiny gel. The sun bounced off his hair in a miraculous glare. That was Charles, her older and only brother.

"God heavens Helena, what are you doing?" Charles said.

Helena looked up from her book and raised an article of clothing. Wearing a pressed smile, she hovered it before the burning pit and charmingly spoke.

"What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp!"

"My pants!" Charles shrieked.

He almost flung himself down from the banister but sense stalled his motion and he went flying down the stairs. He got to the can in time to snatch his pants from his sister. The bottoms were burnt and smoke was curling up each pant like they were twin chimneys. Charles batted what fire he could out in the grass then held the pants up to his frame for measure. They weren't salvageable. Not even the least bit.

"Why must you torment me so?" Charles whined.

A voice rang from the opposite side of the can. This was Helena's partner in crime, Jenks.

"Cause she's your sister?" said Jenks.

Charles snorted, "Why do you promote her horrid behavior?"

"Cause I'm her bestfriend,"

"More like best-groupie." Helena remarked.

Charles scowled at the boy then turned to his sister.

"Put this fire out right now, this is obscene."

Helena mocked him the moment he turned his back to go up the stairs, but she grabbed the hose from the side of the house and sprayed into the can. The fire went out with a sizzling hiss and grey smoke curled from its brim. It smelled like patchouli for some odd reason. Done with the hose, Helena tossed it into the grass and collapsed on top of Jenks with an _omphf_. He was lying in a swinging hammock eating an apple and reading a book. With her invasion, their limbs tangled and they rolled around to make room for each other. Instead of creating space they just got even more entwined as Helena nestled against his body like a kitten and pressed her nose into his neck. After a second of enjoying his cucumber melon scent, she made a mewling noise and batted his book out of his hands onto the ground. When he yelped, she stole his apple and took a greedy bite which led to a quick wrestling match. The hammock rocked dangerously back and forth, with the two of them giggling for no reason whatsoever.

Charles suspiciously poked his head out the door.

"If you two are having sex in uncle's chair I'm calling the police." he warned.

Jenks sat up in the swing. His short hair was mussed, his cheeks brilliant.

"What kind of threat is that?" he said.

Helena's head popped up, the effect of her hair was much wilder as hers was longer.

"Ring'em up boyo. We'll set fire to your whole wardrobe next time, first the silk undies and then your precious garter collection."

"Those aren't garters!" Charles yelped.

"Whatever, they're all the same to me." Helena lazily replied.

Charles didn't need to be told when a battle was lost. Just before slamming the door, he shot a stubby middle finger in their direction. The twosome laughed once again and collapsed back into their original positions. Jenks kicked off the ground to rock the swing more slowly, he protectively wrapped his arm around Helena and she snuggled one of his arms underneath her chin. He was like a teddy bear, she could hear his heartbeat.

"This summer is going to be so boring," Jenks said.

There was a beat before Helena replied.

"It already is… Uncles signed us up for that stupid Cotillion."

"Again?"

"You'd think with the last incident and everyone's "_trauma-zation_" they would've canceled the whole shindig."

Jenks smirked.

"They still don't know it was you?"

"Of course not!" Helena smirked, "Then again, perhaps Papa knows all along and just decided to hush it all up."

Jenks thoughtfully pressed his lips then glumly shook his head. Helena sensed his change of mood and looked up at him.

"What? What's wrong?" she said.

"I just…I hate that I missed out. I feel like such a lame, everyone got to witness it and I was stuck at home eating chicken noodle soup. Who catches a summer flu?" Jenks replied.

"Aww…Don't be such a puppy,"

Helena sat up so she could look her friend in the eyes. His eyes were an incredible pale blue, in the light of the sun they were even lighter. They reminded her of innocence.

"We can still have some fun this summer, actually I have a plan that's in the works."

"A plan?" Jenks raised his brows. "Care to share this plan?"

"Not at the moment."

"So why tell me about it at all?"

"Oh you know, just to get you all hot and bothered."

Helena tickled her fingers across his chest and Jenks flushed brilliant red. Laughing at his reaction, HG fell sideways and pressed herself lengthwise against his body. She ran her fingers through his short blonde hair, the silence between them was very intimate.

"You know…If only you weren't so gay, Jenksy boy," she traced a finger down the length of his jaw, "We could've shared a wonderful affair."

Jenks watched her every movement. There was something akin to fright and pure adoration in them.

"Says the Queen," he whispered.

"Touche',"

The door banged open again, their heads shot up to yell. Instead of annoying Charles, it was their family friend, MacPherson, carrying a briefcase and looking frazzled. At the sight of their position on the swing, MacPherson twisted his nose in an expression not unlike Charles'.

"See you two are cozy this afternoon, where the hell were you two devils when I went to visit the guest?"

"Sleeping." Jenks replied.

"Screwing." HG countered.

"I don't believe the former and the latter wouldn't surprise me."

HG chiefly wrinkled her nose.

"For your information we were reading and doing our homework." she said.

The older man rudely laughed, "Ha, homework? This time of summer?"

"Why not?" HG quizzically said.

"It's just normally you–

MacPherson cut as his eyes fell onto the smoked out garbage can.

"What is the meaning of this hobo nonsense?"

Mischief returned to Helena's eyes, she proudly sat up on the cot.

"A psychology experiment."

"About what?"

"_What makes Charles tick?_"

MacPherson rolled his eyes, "When are you going to stop picking on him? He's your older brother, a full grown man, he deserves your respect."

Helena placed her hands on her hips and replied, "I'll stop it when he admits why he hasn't gone back to Oxford."

"It's the summer break, give him a break already."

"You can't give someone a break when their taking up space in your closet with half of their shopping bags, " Helena snapped, "He's not a bloody schoolboy Uncle, he's turned into a fashionista!"

"He's depressed." Jenks softly murmured.

Helena groaned, "Don't make sense Jenks, you're making me look bad."

MacPherson mopped his hand across his face then shoved his handkerchief into his back pocket.

"Where is Cataranga?" he said.

"In his office."

The twosome spoke in unison causing annoyance to line the gentleman's face.

"I've already checked there."

"The _other_ office," Helena snapped.

Without another word MacPherson re-entered the house, yet again, slamming the door.

HG hopped to her feet and walked over to the fence. She propped her chin atop of the pickets as she looked at the house that was down the road at the tip of the harbor. She could see a station wagon parked out front with some parcels still attached to the roof. As for the house itself, the only sign of inhabitation came from the now open windows. She wasn't close enough to see into the rooms directly.

Just after Jenks propped his face right beside hers, Helena softly spoke.

"I wonder…. Just who are our lucky guest?"

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**so... Continue or NOT?**

**COMMENT PLEASE!**


	2. Chapter 2

First, when you read this and you've read _SNATCH_, this will make you think I am bipolar.

Second, I'm not even going to pretend...I have NOT watched the last season of W13 at all. Not even a snippet. It may sound delusional but I rather take the "hear no evil, see no evil" approach to the unfortunate closer of the series.

Third, as a problem with _Snatch_, I see people are reading this story however nobody is posting a comment, good or bad. Mainly I would like to see comments/reviews, not just for vanity purposes but to improve on writing.

SO…COMMENT PLEASE!

**NO BETA!** Do you want to be one? Apply in comments.

(Note: if you want to BETA, you'll also have the option of taking on the GRUELING task of BETA'ing _SNATCH_ as well.)

**BIG THANK-YOUS TO ** _**TonksBella**_,_**Grumpyyetamusing, **__and __**John6Lisa. **_They're why this story will continue!

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**CHAPTER 2 - MANSARD ROOF **

.

.

.

Sea, sun, and lots of fresh air. This was a prescription of a great summer. Myka Bering wanted nothing more than to crawl under her bed and die.

Literally.

"Don't make me go down there by myself Myka, you know what she'll do!" Tracy pleaded.

Myka folded her sheet over her head. She was reading Robinson Crusoe. Nothing was more important than the tropics and cannibals right now.

"Please Myka, don't make me!"

Underneath the sheet, which was smoldering in this weather, Myka grumbled a "NO". Outside the cave, her younger sister tugged the sheet free exposing her to organic light. Myka hissed like a Vampire and shrank away with her book clutched underneath her chin.

"Am I going to have to drag you on your ass again?" Tracy said, her face was serious, "Need I remind you of the skid marks?"

Myka rolled away from her sisters reach. Though the girl was shorter and younger, she had surprising amount of strength that Myka figured must've come from her gymnastic abilities. Myka on the other hand was so gangly she didn't know what to do with her limbs. She fenced and just recently before school let out, took up the lacrosse team. It wasn't an entire failure.

"Girls!"

Tracy growled at her older sister then slunk out the room. With her appearance, Myka now had no choice but to follow her. The girls walked down the stairs one behind the other to the landing. Just before reaching the end, Myka poked her head over the banister to spy their guest. Below she made out the form of a man. He was older, much so than her father, and wore spectacles. Something about his wise whiskers reminded her of a mole.

Upon their landing, they both propped on their angelic smiles and murmured ladylike "hellos" to the elder gentleman. They didn't have to speak much because their mother was going to do it all for them.

"This is my eldest, Myka, and my youngest, Tracy." their mother directed towards them with her outstretched palm, "This gentlemen is Cataranga, he owns the lovely cottage up the road."

Tracy nudged Myka, Myka nudged her back.

By _lovely cottage_, her mother was referring to that enormous estate with the even more spacious boat sitting out the dock. Since their three days of arrival they had heard both of their parents marveling over both the boat and whether or not they should introduce their selves to the inhabitants. They hadn't seen anyone going in or out of the house so they assumed that maybe the owners were vacationers too.

Cataranga, such a funny name, had twinkling pleasant eyes and a gravelly voice when he spoke.

"Ah, you look to be closer to my charges age. They're around here somewhere, ones a bit feisty and the other's a bit of a brute."

At the mention of a boy, well a description that could've read _boy_, Tracy's mood livened up.

"Come down and visit sometime, there will be great food and lots of good intellectual conversation." he said.

Their mother nodded her head repeatedly.

"We'll see if there's space in our schedule, there's so much we have to do." said Mrs. Bering.

"Yes, I quite understand, it's quite difficult keeping up with time when they're this big. I said this just the other day to Mac when he'd come along and bought up the…" Cataranga trailed as he dipped his head in memory and a quick glance at his pocket watch, "Oh, dear, excuse my old fool rambling, I must take my leave I'm afraid tea's getting cold, can't keep the devils waiting,"

"Oh no, it was no bother," Mrs. Bering showed him to the door. "Evening Mr. Cataranga,"

He tipped his hat to the three ladies, his manners of a perfect gentleman.

"Evening to all of you, tell Warren I'll back later this week with the Romanee, already I'm debt to him, he's quite a player."

He chuckled lightly to himself as he disappeared from the walk. Mrs. Bering closed the door and met her daughter's eyes, she looked quite pleased.

Instead of filling her girls in, she practically waltz into the kitchen and began to rattle the cabinets for the nights dinner. Already there was a salad on the table and a loaf of French bread. Tracy picked a cherry tomato from the salad and popped it into her mouth, Myka slouched against the counter with a piece of buttered bread. They watched as their mother pulled some salmon fillets from the fridge and oiled a skillet to heat. After pouring a little seasoning onto the fillets and rinsing her hands, she turned to her daughters and spoke.

"He's a writer," she announced.

Myka chewed for two beats then said, "Like dad?"

"He works for Conde' Nast, and he's published several bestselling celebrity biographies."

"What? That old guy?" Tracy said.

"Manner's Tracy."

"But you said celebrities. Do you mean crusty old Pink Floyd celebrity, or Justin Beiber?"

"Singers aren't the only celebrities," Myka groused.

"Singers look better shirtless."

Myka snorted.

Plates and silverware was handed to each girl so that they could set the table as the rest of the dinner cooked. It didn't take long to sear salmon, their mother would know, she'd studied cooking in France just last year.

"Anyway, I want you both to check out the dresses I got for you, there's an informal party coming before the Cotillion that's in two days time. If I had known, I would've gotten you both more clothes, but as of now we'll work with what we have."

"_Mom_…" Tracy whined as she slapped the plates onto her thigh, "I told you I can pick out my own clothes! Why do you insist on doing it for us?"

"You haven't even seen them yet."

"I don't care!"

Mrs. Bering poured more vinaigrette onto the salad and tossed it, you'd think she was trying to drown out her daughters whining with the vigorous motion.

"Myka, could you go get your father? Tell him dinner is almost ready."

Myka laid the last fork and went out the room to the little hall on the left of the kitchen. She didn't have to walk far to uncover the little area. Her father chose the perfect room for his study. It was subterranean and cozy. In a sense it was a lair, hidden from the world of her mother's nagging and her sister's annoyance.

"Heyo, kiddo,"

Her dad greeted her the minute she slipped into the room. She wasn't sure how he always knew the difference between her, Tracy, and her mother, but somehow he did.

"Hiya, dad." Myka replied.

She took a spot in the chair on the offside of the room. It smelt like cigars already. There was one lying on the ashtray on the table with its end snuffed. There were some playing cards too, from the looks of it that was how Cataranga had lost his Romanee Conti.

"Did you girls meet our neighbor?"

"Mmhmm, heard you fleeced him."

He chuckled. "That man couldn't play a pack of cards to save his life. He wanted to play chess but something told me he had an advantage there, so I got him good with a game of Gin."

Myka mouth flopped open. That was childsplay.

"He's that terrible?"

Her dad shrugged.

"You think he was playing polite?" he said.

"Did you?" Myka replied.

"Now that you mention it…" Her father rubbed his chin then tossed his hands. "Well, it was his lost. I should've known. What guy biographies Mick Jaeger but claims not to know a lick of Pink Floyd?"

Like Tracy, their dad had a thing for the psychedelic group. Unlike Tracy, it wasn't a big secret.

"He did biography Mick Jaeger, in person?"

"That's what he said. And that's not half his list. The others were, and this isn't even the half of it either, Prince Charles, Frank Sinatra, Paul McCartney, Miles Davis, Michael Jackson, Elizabeth Taylor, Simon & Garfunkel, and most recently, Justin Beiber, amongst others."

"Whoa," Myka gasped.

"Whoa indeed."

Myka shook her head in marvel at the oldman historian and now her meeting him held a different light. She felt a little like an ass for not wanting to speak to him earlier, she silently swore to be more respectful next time. She wondered what Tracy would think after she said he really did bio Justin Beiber. Returning to her dad, she sat up in the chair and tried to see if he was working. He appeared to be staring at his computer screen.

"How's it going?"

Without turning from his station her father spoke to her, "Oh, it's coming… It's giving me a real doozy, but it's getting there," her dad stopped talking to wipe crust from his eyes then said, "I canned my fourth draft this morning and started from scratch again."

"Again?"

Myka's eyes went to the wastebasket. There was a heap of white paper piled at least two feet past it's brim.

"Was it Roger?" Myka asked.

"The rotten old badger, I just can't get him right."

"Let me see,"

Myka went to read over her dad's shoulder. Apart from his editor, she was the only one graced with this privilege. Her father was a private man and as a writer he took his words personal. Their exchange began when Myka was a mere baby child, on a whim he'd read to her snippets of his stories and gauge their marketability on her reactions. If she went to sleep- it was a fail, if she started to cry- it was an utter mess, if she lied awake with rapt eyes and palms clasped into tiny fist- it was a winner. Myka didn't know this however, she thought he let her read his work because unlike the rest of the family, she actually enjoyed reading books.

_Roger wrapped his hands around the wheel. He'd prepared himself to pull them full ahead towards death, cannons were blaring beyond his shoulder he already hear the fatalities of his men._

"_Take them down, don't heed their threats! Revel in their blood men, bleed their scoundrel hearts dry!"_

_He had salt in his eyes from the churning sea, bodies had gone overboard, some were dead, some were lost…._

.

Myka bit her lower lip.

Her father had been working on a fiction novel about 17 century sea warfare. In it, Roger is a naval captain with a mysterious past which comes to hunt him when he must fight a group of men he'd grown up with as a boy. Sometimes when she reads it, Roger reminded her of the captain in Moby Dick. Other times, Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Caribbean, other times, and this was rare, he reminded her of her three years passed Veteran grandfather, Wally. Today there was more melancholy in his character, his voice hinted towards being very bitter and angry. He was the sea captain today.

Myka pulled away from her father's shoulder before speaking.

"Does he hate these men dad?" she asked.

"No, that's not what I intend." he replied.

"So he wants to hate them but he can't?"

"Yes, he's torn between them."

"Do they have to die in the end?"

Her father touched his nose then said, "It'll make for a good movie, you know they already said Russell Crowe was interested in playing Roger. He had a lot of things he likes to do with the character that'll really–

Very gently Myka cut him off, "But will it make for a good book?"

This gave the older Bering pause.

Myka shrugged then slowly continued, "You know, most times the movie isn't nearly as good as the book. You say so yourself dad. Maybe you should stop thinking about Russell and think about Roger. "

Her father pressed his lips together in thought. Myka saw as his mind changed and the words fell back into place. She smiled, just a little, as he turned around and begin to type with a mad fury.

"I'll tell mom you're eating in."

He didn't respond but he didn't need to. Myka stepped out of the room back towards the kitchen.

**…**

In the dark of night, three silhouettes moved along the roof. They varied in stature, tallest to quite short, and their voices carried down in the form of harsh whispering to the world below.

"Why do I always have to play the baby?"

"Cause you're the shortest,"

"So?"

"Wouldn't it be weird if Mama and Papa had a fullgrown sized daughter?" Helena replied.

"Petite women have babies all the time."

"But still, they have more boobs than you do so…"

Tired of their bickering, despite the humor of it, Jenks stepped into the conversation. "What Helena is trying to say is, you'll make me look like a pedophile if you play Mama."

"But this is pretend, so you're not getting anywhere near my pants," Claudia squawked, "And I thought you were gay? Did she turn you? Are you anything goes now just like that _Thing_ over there?"

She pointed with her pinkie finger towards Helena who had slapped a palm to her face.

"See now, you've gone and made things much more difficult Jenksy boy."

The redhead placed her hands on her hips and said, "I have an IQ that's both of yours put together, you don't need to baby things up for me."

Helena's eye twitched. For a microsecond it appeared she had plans on decking the redhead a few feet shorter.

"Good, then you know why you always have to play the Baby, Jenks could you be a darling and hand me that?"

"Baby sad, you both suck!"

"Claude, I'll play Mario Kart with you when I'm done," Jenks said.

Claudia still pouted.

Helena was streaked with dirt as she tried to hoist the heavy object. Just as it was mid air she grunted, "And you get to play with Uncle Cata's shiny-shiny screwdrivers."

"Yay, Baby so happy!" Claudia clapped her hands like a giddy child.

"Hold still," Helena snapped.

"I am," Jenks replied.

"Then why is the ground shaking?"

"KIDS!"

The threesome simultaneously looked down below. They were on the roof of the house.

Instead of going over like all the normal nosy neighbors did three days ago, HG had cooked up something far more extravagant. They were going to use a super telescope to spy on those guest who'd moved down the street. It would've been even better idea if said telescope didn't cost six figures and didn't weigh a ton.

"Baby, go play look out!" Helena snapped.

Claudia slid down from her position on the roof and monkey shimmied her way back through the window. She was good at getting into small spaces quickly, hence her permanent job of being their watch. She had made it onto ground in time as there was a tap on the door and the handle turned. Just before it could open, Claudia rushed forward, pulled open the door and quickly ran out into the hall. The person on the other end whipped around in shock and fright.

"What in the, _cripes_, Claudia? Was that you? Why are you running?"

Helena and Jenks tensed as they listened to the door shut back and Cataranga go back down the hall.

"You almost gave me a heart attack!" They heard him call followed by, "Are you in here? For heaven's sake, open the door! I need to use the loo!"

There was a whiny noise that must've been Claudia's voice from so far away. They couldn't hear what she said but whatever it was it garnered another shriek of '_good heaven's!'_ from their uncle.

"Baby go poo-poo potty?" Jenks said.

They both started to snicker.

"Ok, let's hurry."

Helena cracked open a slot she'd specially built into the roof. On other occasions this was where she'd hid her stash of French cigarettes and once a flask of her Uncles snaps, for a taste, later she'd hid other things of value and made the space bigger to fit her needs. Sometimes it housed items she'd hidden from her brother Charles, once it'll housed a shoebox full of grenades she'd won off eBay. That wasn't even the most dangerous thing she'd stored in there.

When they were done with the super telescope, they would stash it inside of the roof. It was the perfect place because her Uncle was afraid of heights and her brother was the worse type of wussy. It was imperative that they hid it because technically speaking…They'd stolen it.

"So who do you think has better boobs?" Helena asked.

Jenks was peering into the telescope. He was looking at Mrs. Bering at the moment, she'd made the most delicious piece of salmon he'd ever seen, and he'd been personally served by Wolfgang Puck before.

"Oh god, I'm such a fatty." he murmured.

"Gross, are you drooling?" Helena pulled close to him. "Let me see,"

"No, wait," Jenks tried to keep it to himself but too late, Helena took back the viewer and saw for herself. What she saw wasn't Mrs. Bering's plate or even Mrs. Bering herself, she was looking at what appeared to be a cat's rear end.

"You are depraved." Helena said.

"What?"

"I didn't know it at first, but I do now."

"What?" Jenks exasperated.

He took back the microscope and looked. Again the lens shifted now he was looking at Tracy Bering. The younger Bering was picking her nose, her method was slick, some how she'd managed to conceal it at the table. He switched from her over to the second Bering girl. The older was eating her salmon with a spoon. Why, he had no clue. Perhaps they'd run out of forks or simply lost the others in their packing.

"Are you going to hog the thing or should I carve another hole in the back of your head for me to see as well?"

"You don't have to be a grump about it."

"Well it's only so long that _Baby has to poo_ can play out. Claudia hasn't been playing her part lately and you know it, she's trying to show her teeth. Can you believe the nerve of that little brat?" Helena complained.

Jenks shook his head and pulled away from the scope, this time he did it gently so it didn't move. Helena scotched into place and placed one eye over the viewer. For a long time she was silent, she normally was sarcastic about guest and he liked to hear her caustic yet humorous remarks.

"So…?"

Helena was quiet still.

"They're sisters." she said.

"Yeah, that much is obvious."

"I wonder, think they have more of them?"

Jenks shook his shoulders.

"Ones apparently the oldest, I think it's the straight haired one without the glasses. Think she's as old as us? Or perhaps old as Charles?"

"Ok, did you hit your head too hard coming up here?"

"It's just…I'm just curious," Helena looked up at him, "It's been a while since we've had kids beneath us here."

Jenks gasped, "Harsh much Helena?"

"Look at them. They're helpless. I bet their mother even signed them up for the Cotillion."

"Your Uncle signed you up."

"Yeah well, that's much different. I'm going there because I _am_ society. Who are they? I bet they're new money. This is probably their first time this close to the ocean."

"But you said they were interesting."

"Ok, let's say they're like Charles. He's interesting, that's why I've made him our summer project. It wouldn't hurt to add new people to that study," Helena mischievously smirked.

Jenks' eyes widened in slight alarm.

"Uncle Cata is going to blow a –

"No he isn't," Helena cut him off with a press of her hand to his chest, "He isn't a part of it and he's never to know," Helena turned around and pressed her eye back onto the viewer.

"I say we feel them out from afar, like specimens in a zoo first, and then go in hard like a gorilla war in the bush. Let's see what makes our new guest tick. Let's get so underneath their skin, we'll wear their reactions like sleeves on our coats."

She looked up at him, her eyes were mischief ignited.

"Let's have some fun with them."

Several feet below the troublemakers, Cataranga was waltzing around his study bobbing his head to the radio and playing air guitar. Sitting in a chair that was feet away was the runaway baby, Claudia. She was wearing a wince on her face and sitting with her back particularly rigid. It looked as if she were afraid to sit directly on her bum.

"I'm the gypsy, asking queen, hey…before we start! I'm the gypsy, I'm guaranteed, I'm going to break your heart!"

"Can I go now?" Claudia groused.

"I'm the asking queen!"

Uncle Cata was being weird. First he told her that the new people had girls her age and a father that was a writer and then he turned up one of his old rock records and began singing karaoke. She liked the Who but she did not like it when her fake Uncle butchered the lyrics.

"It's _acid queen_. ACID. You know, as that stuff you dropped back in the 70's?"

He wagged a finger in her face and kept singing it his way.

"Hey….before ya start!"

"That's gross. I thought this song was about sex, and even worse, with a smelly prostitute. You're ruining my virgin ears Cata!"

Claudia gripped her ears and acted as if she was going to die. Cataranga played air guitar some more then made a wah-wah pedal noise trying to sound like a funky bass. There wasn't even a funky bass solo in that song.

"Ok, I'll stop." Cataranga said.

He whipped around and turned off the record then sat across from her. He sat with his back all the way into the seat and both of his hands on the armrest. He looked relaxed. His calm was frightening to the younger girl, she stiffened all the more in the seat. _Baby go poo-poo_ didn't quite work as planned this time, she needed something new in her repertoire. Cataranga rolled his eyes to the ceiling. He was sure he'd heard a thump a few moments ago, like a body or two falling from a height.

Without moving his hand from the armrest he pointed a single finger to the ceiling above and met Claudia's eyes directly.

"Where are the devils and what are they doing?"

"I know this is going to sound weird but…" Claudia suddenly cramped forward with one hand clutched to her stomach and the other to her bum. "I've suddenly got a bad case diarrhea, I know you wouldn't want me to mess up this leather couch and all."

As she staggered to her feet, Cataranga waved his hands and sat her back down.

"Not a bother, you're wearing trousers."

"But it's runny and it stinks."

"Are you trying to gross me out?" Cataranga tilted his head then smiling continued, "I've toured the world with Rockstars love, that's not the worst I've ever seen, smelled, nor tasted."

Claudia's eyes bugged. She hoped he didn't mean he'd tasted poo.

"Something tells me something naughty is brewing, care to share?"

Claudia sighed.

"Helena burned more of Charles' clothes."

"So I've heard. MacPherson shared that with me three days ago, I was at the other office so I missed all of the excitement."

"She says she's shaving her head to become a nun."

"That's a lie."

"She says she wants to have a priest orgie."

"That I'll believe," he tipped his teacup to her, "But, something tells me you made that one up."

Claudia rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. That one really was made up. She gave up on her diarrhea act and grabbed her own cuppa. It was cold but she liked cold tea, she put more sugar in hers and wished that it had ice in it as well. Iced Tea was the best tea. There was silence as Claudia and Cata shared a cup. When he reached to top the younger girls' cup off, he softly spoke. His wise eyes were full of concern.

"Has she been acting strange to you? Mentioned anything funny?"

Claudia shook her head.

"Not really…." she grimaced, "Oh, she tried to seduce me again."

"What?" Cataranga choked.

"Indirectly, you know that weird way she treats Jenks? Well she tried it on me too but I told her it wasn't funny."

"That's…" He trailed.

"I know, super weird and disgusting." Claudia finished for him, then tipped her head and the teacup all the way back so she could drip the last drop onto her tongue. "I hijacked that new phone you got her, you know, that lame thing she won't use because it's not by Apple? Well I turned it into a super robot. It's my minion for when I take over her reign. She doesn't know it, but I've been plotting a siege."

Cataranga stared at her as if she had several eyeballs. He understood a lot of things but in his lifetime he'd never met anyone as dangerously smart nor irresistibly adorable as the rather short ten year old sitting right across from him. If only some of her brains could rub off on his two numbskulls.

"Well since you're the only one available, you'll to be the first to know my secret."

The redhead leaned forward. More than Iced Tea and even gadgets, she loved secrets. The more scandalous and upsetting, the better.

Cataranga caught the glitter in her eyes and continued his story with a satisfied smile, "I found out from Mrs. Frederick that there's a formal coming weeks before the cotillion. I thought it would be great for you guys to get to know the new girls, show them around the great parts of the Cod, let them in on your interesting little games."

At his final word, the door flung open. A rather incensed Helena came barreling through the door. Her clothes were rumpled and looked as if she'd just put them back on.

"I think not. Uncle, what is the meaning of this?"

Jenks poked in from behind her. For some reason he was looking shamefaced. Cataranga was curious what happened before they'd entered, but in order to sleep tonight, he figured it was best never to know.

"'Nice for you to join us. Come, sit, the tea's cold."

Helena took her cup and handed another to Jenks. He sipped his quickly and she poured him another cup from her cup.

"Where's Charles?" Helena asked.

"Out."

"He's never going back to Oxford is he?"

"That's not the point of this discussion. I've just told Claudia you are going to the summer party this Friday."

"To hell I won't." Helena replied.

Used to her horrible behavior, Cataranga barely flinched. He continued on as if she replied enthusiastically, "Also, as we are oldest families here, I've offered you to accompany the younger Berings as an introduction on Friday."

Both Helena and Jenks spat into their cups.

"That's– Began Jenks.

–bullshit!" finished Helena.

Helena angrily wiped her mouth off on her wrist.

"You're joking right?"

She looked to Jenks for confirmation. The innocent eyed boy had a knack for sensing lies and truths, he beat her at Poker all the time, and in her experience, she was the greatest liar on earth.

Jenks shook his head. He looked as blown away as she felt. Helena slowly turned back to her Uncle and spoke her final statement on the matter.

"You've got to be–

* * *

...I had ALOT of fun writing this particular scene.

lol

*Cataranga was singing very bad karaoke to "Acid Queen" by The Who.


	3. Chapter 3

I wonder if the Jinks/Helena interaction is a huge turnoff for readers. IT'S not what you think people lol.

…here in America I just discovered that the chain store Family Dollar is selling the Season 2 boxset of Warehouse for $6.95 in the bargain bin, right next to a rather terrible Gackt movie.

**THANKS FOR READING!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

**.**

–kidding me?!"

It wouldn't have been so bad if they were both entirely different dresses instead of just being in different colors. Then again, maybe different body types in general. On Tracy the dress looked how it should look, it accented her body and bought out her blossoming womanhood. On Myka, it looked as if the Wizard of Oz's Scarecrow decided to play dress up in drag.

Well at least that's what she thought.

"It's not that bad honey, you just don't have as much upper carriage as your sister."

"_Upper carriage_?" Myka repeated, god she was humiliated. "What is that mom? Fancy speak for boobs?"

Tracy squeezed her hands over her mouth and ducked her head real quick to contain her laughter. When she did that, her own upper carriage played peek-a-boo as her shirt had popped open.

"Myka, you knew what I meant, why did you repeat it? Yes, if it makes you feel better, _boobs_. Or as young ladies should say, _breast_. You don't have as much _breast_ as your sister so the dress doesn't look right."

That just made it worse. Myka's ears turned pink.

"Now, now, it's nothing. When I was your age I had the same issue, there were these girls, Seniors actually, they showed me this trick with unfrozen icepacks where you…"

"Mom, I am not putting an icepack in my bra!"

"It's not an icepack when it's unfrozen, it's a gel pack. Here, watch me. See? If you mold it in your bra it's kind of like making a water bra. You just got to…"

Mrs. Bering trailed stuck one pack into Myka's shirt, now she felt humiliated and violated.

"Could we not do this here?" Myka murmured.

"Why? What's wrong? We're all women dear,"

They were already in the bathroom of the party. Why her mother had icepacks in her purse, that beat the heck out of Myka, why she waited till they got to destination to whip them out, even more mindboggling. It was a good thing they had the bathroom to their selves because if anyone else came in here, she was certain to die right then and there from mortification.

"Think of it this way Mykes, if a boy squishes your boobs they'll be so soft he'll think you were a goddess."

"Shut up Tracy!"

"There will be no boob grabbing on my watch," their mother's face turned severe with this warning, "Plus this is a cultured environment, it's nice to see you with sensible men and women not those city hooligans,"

"I like my friends." Tracy mumbled.

"Yeah, well your friends are future P.O.R's, know what that stands for girls?"

"Prisoners on release," the Bering girls simultaneously groaned. Their mother said the term at least twice a day. It was worse when she was addicted to CSI and COPS.

Myka turned to the mirror and looked at her new insta-boobies. They didn't look so bad but now she felt like they made her chest look bloated. Like a stick figure put water-balloons on their upper torso area. Beside her, her mother turned around and reapplied her makeup. They had gone out without her father tonight, he'd had a break through with his novel and refused to leave his computer.

"Think of this way, by time the actual Cotillion, you've gotten in good with some nice people and those nice people could go on to introduce you to your future husband, or even your college roommate."

"Or Justin Beiber…" Tracy wistfully whispered.

"Or a P.O.R," Myka softly cracked.

Outside of the bathroom, several feet over by the entrance stood Jinks arm and arm with Helena. He was smart dressed, tux and skinny tie, and Helena was in a blue cocktail dress with her hair done up in a pompadour.

If they were going to play babysitter, they were going to do it in style.

The two devils hadn't even been there a full fifteen minutes before Helena caught whiff of MacPherson chatting up a young woman and her much older boyfriend by the bandstand. Her own Uncle was unable to make it as he had a meeting with his editor. He wasn't that far, only two or three hours out of town but it was still a substantial amount of time for him to give her the warning to behave and go onto the party as promised. For those reasons, Helena was undecided whether or not to hold a grudge against her Uncle or direct all of her hate towards his annoying shadow, MacPherson.

To distract Helena from her death glares, Jinks suggested they search for familiar faces and they ended up spying Claudia by the punch bowl stuffing her face with cheese crackers.

"Was Baby feeling hungry?" Helena greeted.

"Eeek!"

The redhead jumped sky high. Helena laughed out loud at the younger girl's bizarre reaction then crooked a curious brow.

"What was that for?" she asked.

Claudia wiped crumbs from lips with her wrist.

"Nothing," she murmured.

"Nothing nothing or something nothing?"

"Nothing." Claudia repeated.

Helena narrowed her eyes at her then looked around self-importantly.

"Where are they?" Helena demanded.

Claudia promptly responded, "The restroom or as you fake British call it, the loo."

"I'm not fake British!" Helena shrieked.

"If you've lived in America for 60% of your life you're fake British."

The young Brit furrowed her brows; she did not take kindly to the statement not one bit.

"That's a funny brand of logic, are you planning on being a politician?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Claudia asked.

"You tell me IQ of two,"

The redhead rolled her eyes and tossed her hands in the air.

"That's it, I quit. I don't want to play with you two anymore. After this I'm…"

Helena ignored her she watched as the Bering girls crossing the floor. The shorter one was in the lead, she looked excited to be there as her eyes flitted around to each age appropriate boy as if they were a tasty morsel. Behind her a taller girl slouched. She looked most uncomfortable and her chest area was abnormally large.

"Jinks….?"

Helena calmly touched a palm to her male cohorts chest, Jinks turned- he had been watching someone else of interest entirely.

"They don't exactly know what we look like do they darling?" Helena asked.

"Uh…I don't think so."

"Think Cata lied?"

"Uh…" Jinks distractedly replied. His eye had diverted to its original line, a rather attractive waiter carrying a platter full of his favorite drink- Pink Lemonade Martini's- and forgot about Helena. She didn't seem to mind however as she was busy gawking at the new girls.

From Helena's point of view, the two Bering girls obviously didn't appear to be looking for them or anyone else for that matter. Had it not been for the slouching taller girl, Helena would've thought they already belonged there to begin with. She tugged on the collar of Jinks' jacket to gain his full attention and directed a slim finger across the floor.

"That one with the hair, does something about her look different today?" she asked.

Her male cohort tilted his head to inspect.

"She's wearing the same dress as her sister." he said.

"That much I see, I'm not blind, I meant her chest. Didn't we check that out already?"

There was a beat worth of pause before Jinks curiously replied.

"It's larger," he said.

"Much larger." Helena emphasized.

Claudia hated playing with the twosome. One minute they were normal, next they were like hormone ravaged apes. It used to be fun playing with them and now everything seemed to be about sex, or plainly put, sex organs. She wasn't a full teen yet, thank god, and she was willing to sell every gadget she'd ever created and owned to not turn into something like that.

"Ok, I'm over. "Claudia announced, she backed away from the table but snatched a few more crackers to be safe, "I've said my piece and I'm taking my bow. Bon voyage, I'm no longer playing Bab–

"I have a plan!" Helena rudely cut.

She yanked Claudia by the arm and pulled her over to the stairwell. Jinks tripped trying to keep up with them.

Some minutes later, Tracy led her sister over to the very same punch bowl and handed a fluted glass for the both of them. Myka didn't take a glass as she instead voiced a warning.

"Trace you're sensitive to alcohol, you can't even drink Sparkling Wine," she said.

"Shut up,"

"If mom see's you she will…"

Tracy spoke over her, "Mom is too busy brownnosing Mrs. Frederic."

Mrs. Frederic was like the town's very own Martha Stewart, she owned her own B&B and did a lot of volunteer event planning. Her college aged niece Leena, the inn's namesake, came to their house a day after they'd moved in and gave them a basket full of fresh-baked variety scones. The entire Bering family ate them all in one day. Their mother from that day forward gushed about how she wanted to be friends with Mrs. Frederic and how much she always wanted to own a B&B as well.

"Yeah well, that doesn't mean she won't notice if you're drunk." Myka groused.

"Lighten up will ya."

"I can't I'm the responsible one, remember?"

"You know what?" Tracy raised her brow. "How about we deal, I'll put down the drink if you get us some boys."

"Me?" Myka gasped.

"Yeah you, it's a challenge. If you can get us some guys to hang-out with, I'll not drink this highly dangerous and super addictive glass of sparkling wine."

"Not funny Trace, I was being serious."

"I know, that's why you need to lighten up and get your bubble boobies out there and get us some boys."

"Don't call them that." Myka murmured.

"What do you rather? Your Squish-ees?"

"That's worse!"

Tracy was loving the abhorred look on her sister's face a wee bit too much. She waggled her brows suggestively and spoke again.

"Squishy-Squishy?"

"I'm going to be sick,"

Myka clamped one hand over her mouth and waved away her sister with the other, Tracy on the other hand burst into cackles and had to steady herself against the table to keep from sloshing the drinks all over the floor. Giving her sister one last glare, Myak spun around to leave the table and bumped dead into the solid figure of another body. The force of the impact sent her reeling backwards a little but whoever she'd ran into reached out and caught her around the arms. Myka glanced up into the face of her very male catcher and their eyes locked in a second of mesmerism.

He had the palest baby blues she'd ever seen in her life.

"I'm so sorry," Myka managed. She looked a little disoriented.

"You Ok?" He asked her.

"I-I'm fine, sorry,"

Myka pulled away from him, she didn't know what to say next and she could feel Tracy bugging out behind her. If this had been on the other foot, Myka knew that Tracy would've killed to fall into a guy's arms like that.

As if she'd said something humorous, the boy laughed and his eyes crinkled. He had a nice smile, a kind smile.

"You're the new girl right?" he asked.

"Ehhmm!"

Behind Myka's back was a cough. She didn't even have to turn to know who it was or what it was for.

"New _girls_," Myka clarified, "My sister's here too."

Tracey pulled forward beside Myka, she still had two glasses of sparkling wine and very smoothly she handed the second one out to the strange boy. It was so natural and cool, Myka's eyes bugged. Only her sister could be this cool around a boy, only her sister.

"Tracy,"

"Jinks,"

He accepted the glass with a slight nod and shifted his eyes towards Myka.

"Yours?" he said.

"My…?"

Myka trailed. She honestly didn't get what they were talking about, she was still reeling over Tracy's smoothness from moments before.

"Myka, her names Myka." Tracy quickly filled in.

"_Myka_…" Jinks tasted the name on his tongue, he tilted his head a little and his pale eyes seemed to twinkle. "That's a stone right? It's kind of glossy?"

"Eh, yeah. My name's spelled differently though it's with a "Y" and a–

Tracy nudged her in the arm and Myka stopped talking to throw her a _"what is it?"_ look. Her younger sister scowled at her then turned batted eyelashes onto Jinks.

"Your names different too, never met a Jinks before. That's your real name?"

A slight smile came at the corner of Jinks lips as he shook his head, "That's kind of a long story… " he trailed off and his bright eyes flickered in their intensity, Tracy had to catch herself from swooning over onto the floor.

This guy was better than Beiber!

"So how do you guys like it here at the Party?" Jinks asked.

"It's good." Myka murmured.

"Pretty cool," said Tracy.

"You sure about that?" Jinks asked.

His deep gaze flickered between the two Berings.

"Well we haven't done much yet, we were just waiting for someone," Myka stated.

"Really, who?"

Tracy glared at her sister but it was impossible for her to knock that truth. Flipping her hair, Tracy stuck out her chin and waved her hand.

"It's nothing. Our mom is super embarrassing, she set us up for this stupid playdate with these kids who live down the street from us. They were supposed to meet us here, I think she said they were Charles and Helen?"

From Myka's observation, and she wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but Jinks looked as if he lost a little of his color.

"Do you know them?" Myka asked.

Jinks scratched the side of his cheek.

"Actually I think I _might_ know who you're talking about." Jinks directed out the room, with a jab of his thumb. "If you want to have some fun, how about you guys join us outside? There's some stuff going on, fireworks, paddleboats, flambé…the works."

He looked to them each for their response, Myka showed hesitation but Tracy jumped right on it.

"Sure, sure that sounds cool!"

"It is cool," Jinks countered.

Myka worriedly glanced over to her mother. Why didn't she come over here and stop Tracy? Why did she feel so not cool about going off with this obviously charming boy? Why did she feel the need to reassure herself and her thinking?

_If only dad was here._

She thought.

Unlike her mother and Tracy, her father understood her more in certain aspects, particularly social aspects. As he was more of a homebody himself he usually didn't push the issue with her going out with people or even attending her mother's parties. If it were her choice she'd be at home right now reading _Game of Thrones_ or editing over her dad's shoulder.

"Ok…" Myka hesitantly replied, she allowed one glance at her sister before adding the rest. "But only for a little bit."

"Hey, not pushing you. It's totally up to you," Jinks said.

...

* * *

What do you think Helena's plan is?

*Now it dawns on me I should've just went the _Cruel Intentions _route... Oh, well.


	4. Chapter 4

You know, I'm happy for the last two comments to continue. This story hasn't had much traffic and I seriously was considering tanking it to focus more on other things. I even whined about it to _**John6Lisa**_ who told me to keep posting and not give up.

no beta, lazy editing.

**THANKS FOR READING and COMMENTING!**

* * *

**CHAPTER 4 **

**RUN**

.

.

"You're the Devil."

"So I've been told,"

"JSYK, you're going to get caught, they keep all of these things accounted for. Even the broken ones."

"Quit being a baby, Baby, and just hand me that blow torch."

Helena was bossing Claudia around outside on the dock. They'd hijacked a paddle boat and right now, Helena was making it accidentally on purpose a little broken for they had plans.

Nefarious plans.

Claudia gave her the blow torch but only after pretending to torch Helena from behind. That pompadour was getting on her everlasting nerves, leave it to the biggest headed person on the planet to go and get a hairdo that made their head even more gi-normous.

"I'm not stupid you know, I heard you flick it on just a second ago," Helena spun around to scold her, "What did you think you were going to do? Flambe' me?"

Claudia shook her head as she handed over the torch. The older girl switched on the flame and let it burn before her eyes for a few seconds, in that instance the darkness of her eyes was revealed to actually be a deep brown.

"Babies shouldn't play with fire, that wasn't very smart for Mama now was it?" Helena husked.

The redhead shook her head again, it was trance like. Helena chuckled at her reaction and ducked back under the paddle boats hood.

She loved being naughty.

…

On the other side of the harbor, Jenks led way for the girls. Out of them both, Tracy was talking to him the most as she was the most outgoing, but the other girl, Myka, was abnormally quiet and kept peeking at him suspiciously. He never in his life met someone who had his gift for detecting lies but meeting Myka, he felt differently. She made him feel so guilty with her glances, he wanted to throw his hands in the air and admit what was going on right then and there.

"You guys should come during the Chinese New Year, every year we light the sky with dragons. You can see them all over the harbor as far as the woods." Jenks said.

Tracy was playing the biggest ditz that ever lived.

"Dragons? Real dragons? You're serious?"

At least the boy had patience, Jenks half laughed in response. "No silly goose, paper dragons. We make them ourselves sometimes, but mainly it's the little kids who like to do that part."

"Oh wow," Tracy gasped. "That sounds so awesome. Doesn't it sound awesome Myka?"

Myka didn't respond. She was still trying to get a fill on this so-called Jenks. He was too nice, much too nice, well dressed, and unlike the other boys she knew he wasn't gross and actually could hold a conversation without staring at Tracy's boobs. Either he was hiding something or he was gay. Which one was it?

"Myka!"

The older girl startled and immediately agreed.

"Yes, yes, it's very cool." Myka did a half hearted fist pump. "Yay."

Jenks did his half laugh again and stepped off onto the planks leading to the food tent and the paddleboats. There were some people there already and from the sight of it they were having a good time. Before following him into the tent, Tracy grabbed onto Myka's forearm and squeezed it like she meant it.

"You are NOT ruining this for me." Tracy hissed.

"Huh?"

"All this acting weird and socially awkward crap? Cut it. Before we get in here, you're going to put on a smile and act normal."

Myka jerked her arm free and folded them indignantly across her chest.

"What the hell's normal Tracy?" she snapped.

"Uh duh, it's like everyone else. Do you see anyone else looking like Grumpy Bear?" her sister replied.

"That's so played out I'm shocked you'll reference it," Myka shook her head as her eyes drifted to the tent partiers," But no, everyone is drunk so of course they're happy."

"Ok, since you put it that way," Tracy narrowed her eyes then shoved the glass of sparkling wine into Myka's hand.

"Drink up."

Myka held the glass as if it was a live animal. Her brows were furrowed in confusion.

"But I'm not sensitive like you," she said.

Tracy sighed, "Uh duh, it's not Sparkling."

"What?"

Myka gave the glass a double take. Across from her Tracy expounded on the details as if it was the most tiring thing in the world.

"The punch was for kids, the flutes were for adults."

"What?" Myka said again. She was having serious trouble wrapping her mind around the glass and her sister's claims. She got past it at last and her mind was finally seeing the real picture.

"Wait so the whole thing with the deal, that was a joke?" she said.

"Yeah, well I kinda thought you were going to flub that up," Tracy sheepishly admitted, her cheeks burned a slight shade of pink, "So yeah, if we both came home drunk, what's the worse mom could've did?"

"Tracy!"

The younger girl spun a little in the sand then wrapped her hands around her sister's forearms. Myka met her eyes and they were shining.

"Come on, Myka, can't you just live for a moment? How often does this happen to us huh? What were the chances of you running into a hot boy like that? Or him inviting us out to the beach? Or us going along with?" she pleaded.

The wind blew over the ocean, it sprayed just a little of it's water onto their skin. In the quiet summer heat the feel was refreshing.

"Never," Myka murmured.

"Exactly."

Tracy released her sister's arms then continued to speak, though her voice was softer now, it was still impassioned.

"We can't let this go Myka, maybe mom's right. Maybe this will change our lives, maybe that guy is the one, maybe he has friends who will be our friends, think big about this Mykes."

Myka shook her head, the glass so tight in her fingers the stem could snap. Tracy stepped closer into her sisters space and met her eyes, unlike her older sister her eyes were a dark coffee brown.

"Are you going to live with me Myka? Will you be free?"

Something in those words awoke something in the older girl. She always had more inhibitions than her younger sister, so much so she had been accused of not being fun. Maybe this was her time to prove herself and everyone else wrong.

Myka Bering could be fun.

Myka tossed the glass back in one gulp and wildly threw the flute across the sand. Tracy looked absolutely stunned for a few seconds but this morphed into a look of triumph as she clapped her hands and whooped.

"Thata girl!" she said.

Underneath the party tent, the scene was not missed by two pairs of prying eyes.

"Thata girl indeed, did you see that?" Helena prodded Jenks in the shoulder, "Looks like we've got another little devil to play with, I haven't heard a motivational speech like that in ages."

Jenks tore his eyes from the scene and looked down at his cohort. Up until a few seconds ago he had been standing there by himself nursing a Pink Lemonade Martini, paper umbrella and all.

"Where were you?" he said. "I thought you said you were going to meet me halfway?" Jenks said.

Helena smoothed her hands over her carefully piled hair as she vainly checked her reflection in a silver tray on the table.

"Got caught up." she replied.

Jenks had a few more words he would've liked to have said but he bit his tongue. He wasn't sure what Helena had in mind for the new girls and from the devious way she smiled when she disappeared with Claudia he was on pins waiting for the grande reveal. He hated when she did this to him. Involved him in a joke but refused to share its outcome.

"This is going too easy." Helena concluded.

"Or not, they mentioned Cata's arrangement for you and Charles to hang-out with them and I almost jumped out my skin." For the first time, Jenks allowed himself to prickle at the memory, he'd worked hard to contain his cool then for fear of being caught in his lie.

He was a horrible liar.

"Think the older one's on to us?" he asked.

"That bubbly little devil?"

Her gaze went to the one he'd come to know as Tracy. The younger girl reminded him of the clique girls at their school, but shockingly, nicer. He wondered where she and her sister were from. She had mentioned something about a mountain but he was half listening from nerves.

"No, she's actually the youngest." Jenks supplied.

"Really?" Helena squawked, "Go figure. I guess all the olders come out more of less like Charles."

"Charles isn't so bad."

"For a girl, it'd be normal. For a boy, that's plan weird."

"People are supposed to be unique." Jenks murmured.

"What's that darling?" Helena said.

He didn't reply.

Jenks stepped forward as he moved in to usher Tracy and her sister into the tent with a smile and wide arms. Myka's eyes were shining, he felt a streak of worry for her as he wondered if she was indeed sensitive to alcohol.

"Hey, for a second there I thought you were going to bell on me." Jenks said.

"Yeah well, we had some sorting out to do first,"

Tracy glanced towards her older sister. The motion wasn't missed by the twosome.

"You all good?" Jenks directed to Myka.

"Peachy."

"Oh…kay."

Jenks lingered on her for a few seconds then gestured towards the girl at his side. Both Bering girls had seen Helena's hair way before they'd seen her actual face when they were outside the tent. Seeing the combination of the whole person led both girls to silently gawk. Tracy wasn't sure whether she'd liked her because she seemed like competition. Out of her league competition at that. As for Myka… Well Myka couldn't take her eyes off of her crazy hair.

"This gorgeous person right here is a close friend of mine I wanted to introduce you to, this is my best friend Helena," Jenks proudly stood aside to allow Helena to take the reins. The grinning Brit struck her palm forward and went to give a warm shake to Tracy and–

"Yo, yo, ho-ho, party didn't start now did it?"

That rude outburst came from the tent's dock entrance. All heads turned to sight a teenage boy wearing aviator shades and a sharp white dinner jacket stepping his way into the tent.

"Who in the _bloody_ _hell_ invited that orangutan?" Helena shrieked.

The boy marked his way towards them shaking his hands in the air like he was rattling invisible maracas. Behind him, Claudia appeared with smears of strawberry trifle on her lips and a glossy patent leather purse which she struggled to loop onto her shoulder. The boy came to a stop across from Myka to stand next to Jenks, he bobbed his head up and down to invisible music and kept pumping his fist.

"Party-party in the hiz-house!"

"Shut it, Peter Lattimer," Helena warned.

"Or what freaky-freak girl?" Pete replied.

"That _horrible_ language. What kind of nonsense is that? We're not preschoolers."

"Yeah you're right, that doesn't stop you from raping on them does it?"

Helena's mouth dropped down to her chest.

"Lattimer, my Uncle can have you booted off this harbor!"

Outraged, Helena jabbed a finger out the tent in emphasis. Pete flapped his hands over his ears and started to make even more obnoxious sound.

"Nyah, nyah nay, my Uncle blah, blah, blah!"

Tracy gawked at the twosome like they were lunatics, whereas Myka burst out laughing. The sound broke the duo's disagreement and led to them both staring at her. Myka was laughing so hard she had to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. Jenks handed her a white handkerchief from his pocket, she took it and dabbed the best she could at her eyes. Her laughter was getting in the way though. Once her giggles cleared, Myka pointed at them with the handkerchief.

"I'm sorry, I just, do you two do this all the time?" she said.

Pete propped his glasses atop of his head and looked her over with a whistle.

"You're new?" he said.

"They came in nearly a week ago, they're old news now."Helena groused. Her eyes never left Pete's body as she was frowning at him with evident disdain. Pete folded his glasses and struck out his palm to take Myka's hand. To everyone's surprise, he bowed his head and kissed Myka elegantly on the back of her knuckles and looked up to her eyes.

"Pete Lattimer, you're Knight in shining armor," he announced.

Eyes followed Myka as she carefully took back her hand from Pete. Without breaking eye contact she casually wiped his kiss off on her dress, then spoke.

"Pompous much?" Myka said.

Pete straightened, he was genuinely confused.

"What's that?"

Helena derisively snorted. Her face was positively gleeful at the new girls rebuff, "She meant jerky, silly rabbit. Still aren't using that dictionary I got you?"

Fluster colored Pete's face as he shook off the snub in game for his favorite pastime.

"Still haven't used that bear trap I got you?" Pete quickly retorted.

"What would that do?" Helena asked.

"Keep your big mouth shut."

"Ha, I could say the same for you, Mister walking talking ghetto blaster."

"Nun-unh ole girl, no you ain't just call me ghetto!"

"Yes I did, your sister and your momma's ghetto too."

"Whoa-ho you trying to crank out _Yo Momma_ jokes? Who taught you that? Your whooping boy?"

"Yo momma," Helena cheekily replied.

Out of nowhere a voice quipped.

"Baby like cheese."

Everyone turned around and stared down at the redhead. Pete got this enormous smile on his face and he leaned in towards Claudia then said–

"Baby eat like Billy goat."

At these peculiar words, Tracy stopped ogling Pete's biceps- they were straining in his shirt!- and blinked in confusion. She looked around the group, the cute boy with blue eyes, his weird domineering girlfriend with the enormous Elvis hair, the hot body guy, and now this, the weird talking midget girl.

What kind of place was this?

Tracy ever slightly shifted towards where Myka had been standing and whispered loud enough for her sister to hear.

"Ok, Myka, I totally change my mind, these people are too weird."

When Myka didn't respond she looked over and saw that she was gone. She looked over to Baby-blue Jenks and saw that Myka was standing abnormally close to big haired girl touching her hair.

"It's so fluffy. How did you get it to stand up?" Myka said.

Tracy was outdone.

* * *

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hope your brains didn't melt too much from stupidity.

THANKS FOR READING!


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